


Kim Kibum, Ultimate Wingman

by ha2nemiku



Category: SHINee
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-03
Updated: 2019-09-03
Packaged: 2020-10-06 07:17:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20503028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ha2nemiku/pseuds/ha2nemiku
Summary: Kibum has a plan to get Minho a girlfriend.





	1. Ultimate Park Wingman

“Listen, all you need to do is go find some girls and... just sit tight alright?” Kibum said nonchalantly, patting Minho on the back. “You’ll know what to do”. And with that, Kibum turned around, walking back out of the park from the direction they came. God, Minho wished he could do the same, but Kibum would never let him live it down if he left now. 

Minho sat awkwardly on a long, dark green park bench. He fiddled on his phone to pass the time, occasionally glancing up to see if Kibum was anywhere to be found. Beside him on the bench were two women sitting together drinking coffee. These women didn’t look exactly approachable or even anything like the type of girls Minho would usually go for, but there were only 2 available benches and the other one was occupied by an old, balding man of at least 70 years old. 

It seemed like Kibum had been gone for ages. Surely he wouldn’t just leave Minho here? Maybe he was hiding in the bushes, waiting to see if Minho would make a move on them on his own. Or maybe he was waiting to see how long it would take him to simply get up and leave. Minho scrutinized the bushes around him, furrowing his eyebrows and squinting to see if he could make out his friend in the shrubbery. After a good 15 seconds of staring at a particularly suspicious branch, Minho decided that maybe Kibum wasn’t hiding in a bush after all. But then what was taking him so long? It had been nearly 20 minutes, what if the girls left before Kibum even came back? He just wanted to go home. 

Kibum briskly walked down the sidewalk, tapping his feet impatiently as he waited for a set of traffic lights to change. In his hand was a bag containing a singular choc chip cookie from the closest bakery he could find. But since it was a Sunday afternoon, coming across a bakery that was actually open was a tougher feat than he had first thought. He hurriedly paced towards the park, his plan already formulated. 

As Kibum neared the park benches, he spotted Minho awkwardly sitting beside two ladies. Was he going for both of them? God, that’s so ambitious. But he could make it work. He pulled out the cookie from its bag and started eating it and holy shit- it was actually really good. But now wasn’t the time to savor delicious baked treats- now was the time for Kim Kibum, the ultimate wingman, to show the ladies just what they were missing out on. 

Kibum, now next to the bench that Minho and the two ladies were sitting on, began animatedly choking on his choc chip cookie. He made direct eye contact with Minho as he coughed loudly, poorly attempting to smack his own back to dislodge the cookie. He pointed at his throat, closing in on Minho as the ladies beside him stared in confusion.  
“Uh… Are you alright?” Minho asked slowly. Kibum made another attempt at a dry-retching sound and pointed at his back. Sighing, Minho got up and stood behind the ‘choking’ Kibum, wrapping his arms around his torso. He pulled harshly, causing Kibum to spit the cookie out onto the ground with a loud groan. The ladies looked from the semi-digested cookie on the ground, to the wheezing, keeled over Kibum, and then to poor Minho, disgust prevalent on their faces.

“Wow… Great Heimlich” Kibum sputtered, looking up at Minho.  
“Uh… Thanks…” Minho replied awkwardly as he returned to his seat on the park bench.  
“Are you a doctor?” Kibum asked. His acting was so bad it felt like a terrible daytime soap opera and Minho had to resist the urge to laugh at his friend.  
“No, uh I’m not a doctor”  
“Well you should be… you’ve got great skills”, Kibum said. He turned, making direct eye contact with the ladies on the bench before stating “Your wife is a lucky woman... A very, very lucky woman” with a smirk. Surely this wasn’t Kibum’s ploy, Minho thought. Surely not. Someone who crowns themselves as an ‘ultimate wingman’ must be better than this.  
“No I uh… I don’t have a wife. I’m single.” Minho forced out, internally cringing at what an awful idea all this was. Why did he let Kibum do this again? Kibum’s eyebrows raised so comically high Minho thought they might actually fly off his forehead as he turned back to the women on the bench.  
“Did you hear that?” He said incredulously, “He’s single!”. The women stared back at Kibum, who hadn’t broken character yet despite all the awkwardness. “I find that hard to believe… So crazy... Well… see you later” He said to Minho, picking up his soggy, half chewed cookie piece from the ground and putting it back in its bag. He spared one more glance at the women, waggling his eyebrows and looking between them and Minho before walking off, a smug smile on his face. ‘God, I’m such a good wingman’ Kibum thought to himself, ‘Minho is bound to go home with one of those ladies tonight’. 

Minho on the other hand was not so convinced of Kibum’s so-called legendary wingman tactics. He exhaled slowly as he sat on the bench, wishing to be literally anywhere else.  
“…Good job” one of the women said awkwardly, breaking the uncomfortable silence that had dawned over the bench since Kibum’s departure. The other woman next to her laughed, and maybe Minho would’ve laughed too if he wasn’t mildly traumatized by being embarrassed like this in public.  
“Yeah. Uh, thanks.” He said, standing up and grabbing his bag. This was useless. He didn’t even want a girlfriend anyway. Kibum was going to get an earful when Minho found him.


	2. The Sneaky Frenchman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the failure of his first plan, Kibum goes back to the drawing board and procures another way to score Minho a girlfriend.

“Listen Minho. This time I have the perfect plan”.  
“Kibum, I don’t want to hear it. I’m not interested. This is ridiculous”.  
“No, you want to hear this one. I’ve been thinking about it. There’s no way it won’t work”  
“I’m not doing it” Minho grumbled, crossing his arms.  
“Yes you are. It’s easy. Listen, all you have to do is read what’s on this piece of paper and ladies will be falling head over heels for you” Kibum said matter-of-factly, handing Minho a piece of paper with… French? What?

“Kibum, what the fuck. I don’t even know what this says”. Minho huffed, his lips tightening in a frown.  
“Minho, Minho, Minho…” Kibum started in the most condescending voice Minho had ever heard in his life, “_What_ it says isn’t important. I call this plan ‘the sneaky Frenchman’. Ladies love the French! I’m just gonna walk past needing a translation, you say what’s on the paper and badda bing badda boom, you are _Le Hero_”. Kibum’s French accent was so awful that Minho could only be grateful that he was the one pretending to be French and not Kibum. After a good 20 seconds of Kibum making puppy dog eyes at Minho and whining about how much he had thought about this plan, Minho couldn’t take it anymore.

“Fine, I’ll do it” Minho conceded, reading over the sentence one last time before shoving the paper in the back pocket of his jeans. “But they’re not gonna buy it. I don’t look French. I can’t speak any French”.  
“Jesus, Minho.” Kibum sighed, “It doesn’t matter if you can’t speak French! And yes they are gonna buy it. In fact, they’ll buy it for one French dollar.” Minho paused, genuinely unable to tell if Kibum really thought they used dollars in France. But the expectant look in his eyes told him that he wasn’t looking for a debate, so Minho just nodded. At this, Kibum patted him on the shoulder and set off, giving Minho a thumbs up as he walked away.

And now Minho was once again waiting for Kibum. This time however, he wasn’t sat on a gritty park bench. He was now sat at a small outside table in a local café, with two women at the table next to him. Much like last time, this was the only spare seat that wasn’t next to either a child or an elderly man. It felt awkward sitting at a table for 2 by himself, with no drink, trying desperately to not look like a clambering idiot as he refreshed his twitter feed for what felt like the 500th time. 

Kibum smiled as he walked down the street towards the café, confident that this time his plan would work. As he spotted Minho, he pulled his phone out from his pocket, feigning a look of confusion and stopping dead in his tracks when he reached the café.  
“What…” Kibum said in bewilderment, making his presence known. At his noise, Minho looked up from his phone, sighing. Kibum’s acting had not improved at all. “Sorry to interrupt” Kibum announced to the few tables outside the café, “But do any of you speak French? The language of love?”. Minho inhaled, trying to mentally prepare himself before making a fool of himself in public again. But as he opened his mouth to speak, one of the ladies by his side piped up.  
“Oui!” She said enthusiastically, attention focused solely on Kibum. Kibum’s eyes widened for a second, sparing Minho an unrecognizable glance that seemed somewhere in between shock and embarrassment before getting back into character.  
“Uh, I just need… something translated… for me… something…” Kibum said awkwardly, trying to avoid Minho’s burning stare on him. 

Unfortunately, the only time the sneaky Frenchman plan doesn’t work is when the target girl speaks French fluently. The girl in question was still looking at Kibum expectantly, waiting for him to give her something to translate. “How do you say… uh, I need to buy a crate of… chicken feathers… I know it sounds weird.” The girl forced out an awkward laugh before translating.  
“J’ai besoin d’acheter…” she paused for a moment, furrowing her brows, “wait, sorry, what do you need again?”  
“Uh… chicken feathers. Yeah, it’s a difficult language huh…” Kibum replied, peeking over at Minho with his teeth gritted in an embarrassed attempt at a smile. This was fucking ridiculous, Minho decided. He shook his head, getting up from his chair and shuffling past the frazzled Kibum to make his way away from the café and down the street.


End file.
